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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280864">A Sense of Humer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aseyaseyakiya/pseuds/aseyaseyakiya'>aseyaseyakiya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BBC Ghosts, Ghosts (TV 2019), Horrible Histories, Stupid Deaths (Horrible Histories)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Button House is briefly mentioned, Death makes a stupid pun, Julian probably died during bondage, Julian thinks he won't see Button House again?, hope next time its not you!, lets be real, loveyoutho, think again you bitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:15:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280864</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aseyaseyakiya/pseuds/aseyaseyakiya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian dies and faces Stupid Deaths, a fate more painful than any Hellish punishment.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Sense of Humer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/18942238">No Trousers</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poompoom/pseuds/Poompoom">Poompoom</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>is the title a pun? yes.<br/>do i regret it? not at aLL</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Perhaps the oddest thing about being dead was...no, scratch that.</p><p>Being dead <i>itself</i> is odd. You seem to have your normal, mortal body, but you try to lean against a wall the first minute and bam! You’re on the floor the next one, cursing yourself for forgetting about your demise. Also, did teachers tell you that breathing was an unconscious process that you don’t control? Incorrect, you still breathe even though your spirit form doesn’t need to, making you realise Ms Abney was indeed wrong; it is indeed something you control, and more importantly, something that a student shouldn’t have been punished for. I mean, who the hell punishes a student for asking his teacher if she had carried out experiments on her enemies to find that out and, if that were true, how hadn’t she been convicted for being an absolute sadist yet?</p><p>Julian smiled bashfully, gently rubbing his lower back where the cane had landed. He would’ve gotten off lighter, but later that same day the school also found out that he’d been drinking tequila at school.</p><p>Because they just had to do that experiment on pumice at school that day, huh? </p><p>“Not my fault that that old bat set the contents of the bottle on fire…” Julian mumbled off-handedly, rolling his eyes. </p><p>For what seemed like the umpteeneth time that day (or was it night by now?), Julian looked downwards. </p><p>Still falling, and no sign of hitting the ground anytime soon.</p><p>He frowned and pulled back his left sleeve and glanced at his watch- a gift from his wife just a week before- and scowled when he realised that he’d been falling through the void for five minutes. The politician sighed and crossed his right leg over the left, simply sitting there relaxed, falling to...somewhere. Much like any normal kid, he’d been taught that sinning would take him to hell, where he’d pay painfully for his sins. At this point, the only “painful” thing was this ridiculous test of patience. </p><p>No matter how impatient he was, though, he couldn’t help but wonder- why in the world was hell depicted as red, lava, fire and whatnot, when it was clearly just a black nothingless void. He made a mental note to ask whoever was in charge of- wherever and whatever this place was- about the lack of practically everything that was related to the concept of eternal damnation.</p><p>...Well, he would when he hit the ground.</p><p>Which happened within the next two seconds, during which Julian hadn’t been paying attention and had fallen on his butt, in front of more than what seemed like more than 150-ish people. Julian pushed himself off the floor and let his eyes focus on his surroundings as he walked down the row to find someone from his century. The room(?) he seemed to be standing in was dark, to say the least. No visible walls were in sight and the room where he was seemed to be- quite literally- endless. Chairs that Julian thought deserved to be in an airport, honestly, stretched out far and wide, and appeared to have no end either. The place was adorned by white candles of various sizes, all held up by very tall, black candelabras. The area would be very ornate, if not for the two huge glittery scythes that marked the entrance to whatever this place was and the same for an adjoining room. Julian grimaced as he continued walking, before giving up and simply plopping himself into the chair directly next to him. </p><p>
  <i>“Excusez-moi, bon monsieur, car je ne sais pas si c'est insensible, mais vous semblez manquer votre pantalon”</i>
</p><p>Julian started, not expecting the voice. He turned to the man beside him who was looking at him smiling. He was clearly a man in his past-50s, though Julian couldn’t be sure. The man was dressed smartly in a coattail tuxedo, waistcoat, and bowtie. Julian couldn’t help but be quite impressed by his looks. He would’ve been impressed by his French too, had he been able to understand a single word. He knew not taking French while at Cambridge was a bad idea.</p><p>“Pardon?” Julian asked, gesturing vaguely to ask what the man meant. </p><p>“Ah, <i>Je suis désolé</i>, I’m sorry, good sir” the man said apologetically, “I meant to ask, where are your pants?”</p><p>Julian smiled nervously, suddenly aware of the people around him.</p><p>“Well, Mr-”</p><p>“Faure. Felix Faure, president of France, 1895-1899,” he said proudly.</p><p>“Well, Mr Faure, it all started when-” he started, when he was (quite luckily, in his opinion) interrupted by a loud “Next!” and was instantly teleported to the front of the room, in front of the two giant scythes. Exhaling in relief, he headed into the room, not knowing his doom. </p><p>He was instantly greeted by a panel- if he could call it that- of skeletons, the central the only realistic one, chatting with the two other ones at his sides, legs kicked up casually. He was not exactly the image of Death or Satan he’d been taught about or imagined; he was a (strangely) human-looking man with long off-white hair and a black wizard-y robe, and, was that a pair of skinny jeans? </p><p>Death turned to him, opening his mouth as if to ask Julian something when his motion froze and his eyes dropped to his naked legs, where only a pair of shoes and socks covered his feet, and a pair of garters clasped to his calves. Death looked back up at him, before bursting out laughing, slapping the table and clutching at his stomach as he continued to laugh violently at Julian’s expense. Julian rolled his eyes in exasperation and mild humiliation. </p><p>“Mate, where’re your pants?” Death asked between wheezes, an incredulous smile on his face. </p><p>“Well,” Julian started nervously, “You should know that I, Julian Fawcett MP, was technically at a press conference when it all started…”. He proceeded to explain- in embarrassing detail - how bondage had led to his death, not bothering to censor anything. </p><p><i>“I take back what I said. This is possibly way more painful than any Hellish punishment,”</i> Julian thought in embarrassment, coming to the end of his...explanation, at which Death had been violently laughing at, wheezing uncontrollably.</p><p>Which continued for a good two minutes, letting Julian’s embarrassment fade to irritation. Insensitive much?</p><p>“I guess that you could say that bondage stopped you from bond-aging!” Death quipped, </p><p>Julian just stared at him in irritation as he continued to laugh at him.</p><p>“Get it? Bond-aging? You’re not gonna grow older?” Death asked</p><p>“Yeah, I get it,” Julian said, growing more and more annoyed by the second</p><p>“You didn’t laugh,”</p><p>“No, it wasn’t funny,”</p><p>“Yeah well, it was,”</p><p>“No, it wasn’t,”</p><p>The two continued on their childish bickering until Death blew a raspberry and yelled “Whatever!”, with his pointer and thumb on either hand forming a ‘W’. For the umpteenth time that day, Julian proceeded to roll his eyes. Death then turned to the skeleton to his left and pretended to have a conversation with it.</p><p>“Yes, I know, terrible shame that the kids at home won’t be able to watch this,” Death said, chuckling to the skeleton to his left.</p><p>“Kids at home?”, Julian asked, clearly confused.</p><p>“You needn’t know, pal!” Death said, turning to the skeleton to his right, before indignantly yelling “Shut up, Louis!” at it. Julian wondered how lonely it got down here.</p><p>“Well done, Julian- that’s two yesses, you’re through to the afterlife!” he said, putting his feet up on the table again. Julian grinned at the skeletal man, saying a thank you. </p><p>As Julian proceeded through Hell’s Gates behind him, he felt a surge of relief upon realising that he’d never have to see the face of Button House ever again, or be reminded of his embarrassing death, ever again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if any of y'all were wondering, Felix Faure was indeed French president from 1895-1899, dying in 1899 from a (suspected) brain haemorrhage...while having oral sex with his girlfriend.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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